Better Days
by sapphire-child
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve 2004. In an AU world where Charlie survived the Looking Glass, he tells Kate what he wants for Christmas.


**Title:** Better Days  
**Character/s:** Charlie, Kate  
**Summary:** It's Christmas Eve 2004. In an AU world where Charlie survived the Looking Glass, he tells Kate what he wants for Christmas.  
**Original Post Date:**03/12/2007  
**Author's Notes:** Written for the charlielives community for fanfiction challenge #1: Charlie's first Christmas onthe Island. Won third place in lostfichallenge #62 happy holidays.

* * *

_And you ask me what I want this year  
And I try to make this kind and clear  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days  
Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings  
And desire and love and empty things  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days..._  
- Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

11:54

Charlie glanced at his watch – not because he really wanted to know the time, but because there seemed to be nothing left to do. The rain was falling gently outside, making the leaves glisten and the air chill in the final hours of darkness before the new day would be ushered in.

Charlie shivered and wrapped his blanket a little tighter around his shoulders, feeling colder than he should have done under the circumstances. He'd been sick since he'd escaped the Looking Glass station and the abrupt rain that had swept in with the boats that had come hadn't helped much.

It was the end of the first day that the survivors had spent on the run from their new foes and they were resting for the night in the caves – their old stronghold. Sayid and Desmond had designated themselves as the first sentries on a rotating shift throughout the night, guarding the only entrance. Charlie had automatically offered to take a shift too but Jack had denied him – insisting that he was still too ill before banishing him to his old corner of the caves to get some rest.

He had been sulking before the fire ever since – Claire and Aaron having long since gone to bed without him. She being tired herself, Claire had quickly grown tired of Charlie's griping, putting his bad mood down to being tired and sickly – but the truth was that Charlie was just sick of being treated like he was unable to take care of anyone, least of all himself.

Charlie had never thought that he would return from the Looking Glass at all, so when he had, he had been honestly surprised at the reaction from his friends. Hurley had been completely beside himself – he all but threw himself onto his friend, clinging so tightly that Charlie actually had to request that he loosen his hold enough to let him breathe.

Claire had reacted almost the same way – having found his DriveShaft ring abandoned in Aaron's crib she had obviously feared the worst. When Charlie came to her on legs wobbly from exhaustion she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder, crying silently and telling him in a quietly strangled voice that he was never going to do that to her ever again.

Then there had been the reactions from the others. Jack and Sayid had been horrified when he told them that the boat they'd called was the wrong one. He knew that nobody really blamed him for that particular misfortune but he still felt bad to have been the one to burst their happy little bubble. At least he'd been able to warn them in time before anybody got hurt.

Desmond had offered to take the fall for it but Charlie had refused. He had been the one to unblock the signal so it _was_ his fault that the survivors had been uprooted and turned nomad against their will – if in an indirect way. Ignoring their mutters hadn't been easy but Charlie had done it – and despite everything, he still held a ray of hope in his heart.

He had spoken to Penny, if briefly, whilst he had been in the Looking Glass. Perhaps she would be able to pinpoint their location from his transmission? He was certain, as was Desmond, that she would do anything within her power to find them. And if Desmond wasn't exaggerating her wealth and her stubborn determination (and Charlie was certain that he wasn't) then he was certain that it wouldn't be long now until…

"Why aren't you asleep?"

A soft voice startled him out of his reverie and he looked up to see Kate standing at his shoulder, wrapped in an old, faded hoodie.

"Couldn't," he said simply. "My brain's still on overdrive."

"I know how you feel," she sank down beside him, pulling her knees to her chest. "So much has happened in the last week – I'm still trying to catch up too."

"Bugger the week," Charlie said flatly. "I've been through enough in the last forty eight hours to grant me at least a week of sitting on my arse doing nothing."

Kate smiled and looked down at her knees.

"Did you know that it's Christmas Eve tonight?"

Charlie stared. "What – you're serious?"

"I heard Rose talking to Bernard about it," Kate said, wistfully Charlie thought. "I don't think anybody else has realised."

"I guess we've all been too busy surviving lately to worry about the date," Charlie sighed heavily. "Shame. We could've done with some yuletide cheer. Hurley would've made a great Father Christmas for Aaron."

Kate smiled again, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "He would've."

"It seems strange to have Christmas in the tropics," Charlie said musingly. "I'm used to snow and plum pudding and roast Turkey – all of that guff."

"We didn't make much of a fuss about Christmas when I was growing up," Kate offered quietly and Charlie listened intently. It was very rare for Kate to say anything about her past and so when she did he made sure to take it in carefully. "My step dad didn't see the point in at and… well I never got all that much in the way of presents anyway."

"I always liked Christmas," Charlie murmured. "But after you stop believing in Santa it gets a bit dull I'll admit. The last halfway decent Christmas present I got was my DriveShaft ring from my brother."

"I can't remember the last time I even got a Christmas present," Kate chuckled but her eyes were sad.

The two of them fell into an awkward silence and then Charlie turned to her suddenly.

"What would you ask for?" he blurted. "If Santa was real and you could have anything you wanted?"

Kate looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook her head.

"I honestly don't know. What would you ask for?"

"A helicopter," Charlie said promptly.

"Within reason," Kate said warningly.

"I think a helicopter is well within reason," Charlie pointed out. "And there must be _something_ that you want…"

"Well, helicopters and boats aside, I'd ask for a decent pillow," Kate said slowly. "And a pair of scissors that aren't too blunt to trim my nails without ripping my fingertips apart."

Charlie chuckled. "Forever pragmatic."

"Never been any different," Kate said grimly. "Now come on, I've told you mine and you never answered me properly with yours. What would you ask for Christmas?"

Charlie considered it for a long moment, watching Aaron and Claire sleep out of the corner of his eye, just on the other side of the fire.

"I'd like to know that maybe, someday soon, we'll find better days," he murmured finally. "That we'll be able to laugh again and not worry about what bad thing is going to happen next." He paused and then added, "And a new guitar. Or at least a bloody good repair shop for my red one."

Kate was silent for a long time beside him and when Charlie finally brought himself to look at her he was surprised to see that her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. Silently, she placed a warm hand on his cold one and squeezed gently. Charlie shivered uncontrollably as she leant forward and kissed him softly on the cheek before patting his hand and pushing herself to her feet swiftly.

"You best keep on hoping for those better days Charlie," she told him quietly. "For all of our sakes."

"I will," Charlie promised. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Make sure you get some sleep Charlie," Kate said softly. "Your family needs you. Aaron's first Christmas wouldn't be the same without his dad."

Once she was gone, Charlie glanced down at his watch again.

12:03

Pushing himself to his feet, he shuffled stiffly over to where Claire lay, wrapped up in her blanket, Aaron tucked into her arms to keep him warm. She shifted slightly as Charlie lay down behind her, not uncomfortably. Charlie sighed contentedly as he felt her warmth reach out and curl deep into his chilled bones.

Extracting one arm from his blanket, Charlie draped it over Claire's shoulder until his fingertips were touching Aaron's face. He paused there for a moment as Claire let out a quiet sigh and shifted in her blankets. She seemed content, even peaceful in sleep – even though she had been all but exhausted after carrying Aaron in her arms for most of the day.

The two of them had been through so much here – how could he have ever believed that his death wouldn't have traumatised them? The two of them symbolised the hope that he had once given up on, the hope that there could still be something good and strong and whole in this world of death and mayhem that they had all been thrown into.

Charlie kissed Claire's cheek and then brought his mouth to her ear.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered to her, his voice cracking just slightly. "I promise that we'll have better days soon."


End file.
